Just Beaujolais and Chenin Blanc (and That Could Be Enough)

It’s the rare wine list that can be all things to all people. Only the most well-financed restaurants have the resources to range freely the world over and present the best of the best. Instead, most wine-conscious restaurants narrow their visions and choose a style or region in which to concentrate.

The selection must complement the cooking. And, ideally, it must convey something significant about the restaurant’s identity and aspirations.

I’m thinking, for example, of the wine list at Marta, which reels you in both with its counterintuitive emphasis on Champagne — “With pizza? Really?” — and with its pricing, which distinguishes it as among the least marked-up Champagne lists in New York. It offers a wide selection of Italian wines as well.

Another restaurant, Wildair, offers a hard-core list of wines grown and made naturally. Within that stylistic realm, which speaks to the wine director Jorge Riera’s passionate belief in the beauty of these wines, Wildair offers a wide variety of grapes from different regions.

Allow me to go a step beyond these quirky, focused lists and present Freek’s Mill, a new casual restaurant in Gowanus, Brooklyn, which has one of the deepest, most narrowly concentrated selections I’ve seen. You say you’ve been yearning for a nice glass of pinot grigio? Forget about it. You may as well be ordering a hamburger in the old “Saturday Night Live” cheeseburger skit.

If you want Beaujolais or a chenin blanc from the Loire Valley, though, Freek’s Mill is the place to be. Of roughly 200 bottles on the list, about 70 of them are chenin blancs from various Loire appellations, and another 65 are Beaujolais, almost entirely from the 10 Beaujolais crus, the best parts of the region.

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Of roughly 200 bottles on Mr. Alan’s wine list, about 70 are chenin blancs from various Loire appellations, and another 65 are Beaujolais.CreditKrista Schlueter for The New York Times

You have a few other options. Freek’s Mill has pulled together nice selections of wines from the country of Georgia, all made in the ancient way of using indigenous grapes like kisi and rkatsiteli, and fermenting and aging them in terra-cotta qvevris, amphora-like vats buried in the cool earth. These wines can be stunningly delicious, but they are to the proverbial pinot grigio what the traditional polyphonic choral music of Georgia is to a commercial ditty.

Freek’s Mill’s list was constructed by Alex Alan, the sommelier and a partner in the restaurant, which opened in early April. In putting it together, he lands Freek’s Mill squarely in the middle of an age-old debate: Is a restaurant obliged to give customers what they want by offering something for everybody? Or can it stay true to a vision, no matter how narrow, uncompromising or esoteric?

Mr. Alan said his choices were not originally philosophical, but instead grew out of a draft of the restaurant’s opening menu, which emphasized seasonal vegetables, small plates and a wood-burning oven.

“I put it all together in my head based on the flavors and how they worked,” he said. “As it turned out, I have a lot of Beaujolais and chenin blanc in my house. It’s what I like to drink.”

Knowing that Freek’s Mill was on a quiet block of Gowanus, where the prominent local landmarks include a coffin wholesaler and a shuffleboard theme bar, Mr. Alan pondered whether obsession might have its advantages.

“I started thinking that no one was going to come out to Gowanus unless I go all the way down the rabbit hole with these two regions,” he said. “I’d provide something else if people aren’t interested, but that’s just a pressure-release valve.”

Even with such a concentration in two regions, Mr. Alan insists that customers have plenty of variety from which to choose. From the Loire, chenin blancs come from Vouvray and Savennières, Montlouis and Jasnières, Anjou, Touraine and Saumur. The various appellations offer a multitude of terroirs, and it’s a fascinating opportunity to compare different expressions of the same grape.

“I think chenin plays in an amazing variety of sites, from light, lean Montlouis to rich Savennières,” Mr. Alan said. “Even if the flavor profile has something in common, I would say you have more variety between Montlouis and Savennières than anywhere in the world.”

In Beaujolais, too, Mr. Alan sees a wide spectrum of expressions between, say, the light fruitiness of Brouilly and the denser, more textured wines in Morgon.

“In a perfect world, I want to give customers what they want,” Mr. Alan said. “But I also want to teach them something without it feeling like I’m teaching them something.”

Nobody has complained yet about the narrowness of the list, he said. But if people do, Mr. Alan’s safety-valve selections may not offer a comfortable landing. Among the 13 whites labeled “Not Chenin Blanc,” he offers a 2014 Pazo de Señorans Albariño for $50 and a 2014 Pattes Loup Chablis for $75, but also a Hungarian juhfark for $55 and four vintages of a blend of obaideh and merwah from the legendary Lebanese producer Chateau Musar. These wonderful age-worthy wines will set you back $115 to $350 a bottle, depending on how old a bottle you select.

“Hopefully, there’s enough there,” Mr. Alan said. “If you want to stick to your guns, I’m going to offer it to you. But it’s top tier.”

Prices for Beaujolais run for $40 for a 2015 Jean Foillard Beaujolais Nouveau, one of four non-cru selections, up to $100 for a 2014 Lapalu Brouilly Cuvée des Fous, a rare bottling made from vines over 100 years old that is gorgeously vivid. Freek’s, by the way, is a nontipping restaurant, so list prices have an extra percentage figured in.

I applaud Mr. Alan for going all in on his list. For the most part, he has chosen wonderful wines that will reward consumers who put themselves in his hands. And, honestly, Beaujolais and Loire chenin blancs are distinctive and delicious but well within any notion of what constitutes the mainstream.

For truly adventurous palates, I highly recommend exploring the selection of Georgian wines. They are unusual, particularly the “amber” wines, whites that are made like reds. Instead of removing the pigment-bearing skins from the grape juice, as is the case with conventional white wines, the skins are left to macerate with the juices, giving the wines an amber cast and a tannic rasp that is rare in a white. They feel great in the mouth, and the tannins give the wine an extra bit of heft. As a group, these are honest, authentic, delicious expressions made by small farmers.

Though the list’s bandwidth may seem narrow, the opportunity for pleasure is great. If you just can’t live without Bordeaux or pinot grigio, however, a few thousand other restaurants in New York will have what you want.